


Between Days

by forthemyoui



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 09:27:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13948674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthemyoui/pseuds/forthemyoui
Summary: It happened at a convenience store that Dahyun doesn't make a particular point of visiting or not visiting anymore.





	Between Days

**Author's Note:**

> idk not rereading this, might be bullshit

Dahyun found her in the back of the convenience store. You had to be either drunk, exceptionally clumsy, or part of a bad robbery plan if you dropped one store item after another before picking out just one thing for the cashier. Dahyun couldn’t tell which it was with her. She didn’t seem like she’d been drinking, but it did seem like she was in a perennially intoxicated state such that the effects of the drug could still be seen but didn’t faze their host one bit. She also looked like she had poor hand-eye coordination skills, but once in a while her legs moved lithely as she wandered through the aisles. And then she didn’t seem like first choice for heist partner, even for a petty crime, but her gaze somehow said she was capable of anything. Dahyun felt like she might hate that.

Dahyun had been minding her own business, using the hot water tap for her cup ramyeon, when an arm slid past her waist, forearm brushing against her stomach. Dahyun almost cried bloody murder from it, just barely avoiding the splash of scalding hot water from the tap. The woman blinked and giggled a ‘sorry’. The laugh should have made it sound flippant, and yet her tone only came across as sincere. Dahyun thought she was a walking disaster that shouldn’t apologise for how she was.

Dahyun stared out the window of the convenience store, seated on a dingy stool at a narrow table. She overheard the gentle ruckus at the counter - the woman had forgotten her entire purse and was apparently loudly flustered over the situation rather than silently embarrassed and already making her exit. Dahyun listened further as she skipped out of the store, yelped at the cold, the sound coming through muted, and scurried back in. Dahyun sighed and pulled out her velcro wallet, pulling out her last few scrappy notes and walking to the cashier. They had to put away one yogurt drink, which made the woman pout, but Dahyun made a face at her, as if asking if she knew her bounds. A split second later, Dahyun realised that she didn’t, and so couldn’t really be brought to the bar for anything.

As Dahyun took out her homework from her school bag and began the work assigned by the  _ hagwon _ (due in 2 weeks’ time, really), she heard a stool being dragged up to where she sat. Dahyun shuddered violently as an arm came around her waist. It was almost like the hot water incident was repeating itself, only a feeling of oddly placed relief arrived quickly afterwards. The woman didn’t even say a word. She munched on her triangle  _ kimbap _ audibly and didn’t react to Dahyun pausing at her work. After some seconds Dahyun continued. After half an hour, the woman was done with her food and was falling asleep against Dahyun’s shoulder. For all the tiredness in the world, Dahyun felt hyper-aware and also like if she took a leap into the unknown, she might find rest better than any other she’d ever experienced.

Like some sort of wordless crime, when Dahyun put her pen down and turned to the left, their eyes opened just enough to register the next step in the equation. They each moved forward the right amount. If there was any time that they needed to be quiet it was now; even if the man behind the counter was busy with a newspaper, the consequences of discovery were bound to be ugly. And she knew how to kiss quietly, even if she didn’t really want to. It added to the suspense, a bit, and want is always stronger and more deafening when it cannot be shouted. The woman cupped her chin and smoothed a thumb over her jaw and cheek. Spicy ramyeon soup probably isn’t the best flavour of kisses, but Dahyun’s skin was sweet enough, and kisses taste like that anyway - flesh and whatever was with it, around it, covering it. Dahyun came away panting, hot in her black coat and hand light against the woman’s white-shirted torso, another clutching her pen so tightly her knuckles were white.

She didn’t have a yogurt drink, but she did have a juice box in her bag, which she retrieved. The woman just watched her stick a straw in the box, shaking her head when offered a sip. But after Dahyun took her first two sips, the woman intercepted with the mouth of the straw sliding out of the way. And this kiss tasted more like fruit, with the warm spice and salt at the backs of their mouths.

Probably worst and best of all was waking up in the convenience store, with their hair messy from odd sleeping positions, combing out the tangles with their fingers, and then exiting the convenience store and finding that they were walking in the same direction home. Dahyun found out that her name was Sana and she hadn’t gotten a job yet, though she really should have by now. They walked without holding hands and with Sana angling the juice box just so she could finish the last drops of juice in it. Before Sana turned the corner that would force their paths to diverge, Dahyun ducked them into an alley and forced their faces together, keeping their mouths millimetres apart because for some reason or another, the shallow breathing before a kiss is somehow always more swollen with feeling than the kiss itself, maybe because the kiss itself is release of pressure, like air seeping out of a hole in a hose. Then she came away without a kiss, taking out a pen to feverishly write down her number on Sana’s palm. Perhaps the natural state is something between the firm and the soft, between the tethered and the floating, because Sana’s body is sturdy but untethered, and the resultant feeling is just giddiness.

It eventually is such that either the ink was smeared or there just wasn’t enough to bridge a night cut out of the fabric of everyday routine into that routine, but Dahyun doesn’t get a call or a text. Sometimes entire lives are lived between days, though, with their starts and ends having only twelve hours between them, so Dahyun doesn’t question or wonder any more than that.


End file.
